


We all need control

by Builder



Series: Whoa Bessie [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Trans Steve Rogers, War Veteran Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: An angry red mark is blooming on the hard line Steve’s jaw, a visual reminder of what James is still capable of.  Guilt bubbles hot and sick in the pit of his stomach.“I…” James starts.  “Stevie, I-I’m…”  He shakes his head.“It’s ok,” Steve says again.  He opens his arms wide.  “Can I touch you?  Can I hug you?”__________Recovery's still a rocky road.





	We all need control

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @builder051

James is glad when he wakes up.  He can’t remember what he was dreaming, and he’s glad for that too.  It was bad, whatever it was.  Steve’s already up and in the shower.  Because that’s what it means when he hears water running through the walls now.  Not that some unfortunate soul in the next cell is being tortured.

James rubs his eyes until they hurt.  It’s hard to know when to stop sometimes.  The brain-body connection is still slow to fire.  And once it does, James doesn’t want to let it go.

The water cuts off, and the rings of the shower curtain rasp across the rod.

“Hey.”  Steve steps out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.  “Good sleep?”  It’s what he asks now, since it’s established that yes, James still has nightmares, and no, he doesn’t want to talk about them.

“Eh.”  James shrugs.  “Could’ve been better.”

“Coffee’s on,” Steve says.  “If you want.”  He pulls on a pair of boxers.  “Bed’s on too, if you’d rather sleep in.”  He flashes James a grin.

James wants to return it, and he tries.  But forcing his mouth up at the corners feels unnatural.  He scrubs the heel of his hand across his forehead, which he realizes is throbbing.  Rest doesn’t seem to be serving him well today, so he decides to try his luck with caffeine.

The kitchen smells like the mess hall from the fob outside Kandahar.  James blinks, waiting for the long tables to dissolve into focus, but the little apartment kitchen continues to stare back at him.  He opens the cupboard and reaches for a mug, then hesitates.  He’ll want to take his coffee out on patrol.  James grabs an aluminum thermos instead.

_Not patrol_ , James reminds himself as he screws on the lid.   _Therapy_.

But then…  What is he doing?  There won’t be any coffee left for Steve.

The staff will bring out more.  If there’s one thing the Army’s never short on, it’s shitty coffee.

“Watcha doing with that, Buck?”

The thermos topples on the countertop with a clang.  Every hair on James’s body stands on end as he whips around.  He flings his arm out before he can stop and assess, and the back of his knuckles connect with Steve’s face.

“Oof.”  Steve reels backward a few steps, bent over and rubbing his chin.

“Shit,” James mutters.  “Shit.  I’m sorry.”  His heart still hammers, but he knows he’s done wrong.  Adrenaline pumps through his veins, and even though the hazy memories start to fade, the paranoia stays put.

“Shit, Stevie…”  James balls his hand into a fist, but he doesn’t know what to do with it.  He half wishes a real enemy would turn up at the door so he’d have something to pummel.  He doesn’t think Steve would take kindly to him punching out walls.

“No, no, it’s my fault.”  Steve straightens up and holds his hands out palms-down, trying to comfort James from a distance.  “It’s ok.  I didn’t mean to scare you.”

An angry red mark is blooming on the hard line Steve’s jaw, a visual reminder of what James is still capable of.  Guilt bubbles hot and sick in the pit of his stomach.

“I…” James starts.  “Stevie, I-I’m…”  He shakes his head.

“It’s ok,” Steve says again.  He opens his arms wide.  “Can I touch you?  Can I hug you?”

James hesitates, not sure he’ll be able to control the urge to fight.  But Steve’s bigger than James is now.  And he understands.  He’ll let James’s instincts play out, trusting him more than he probably should.

“Ok.”  James lets out his breath slowly, willing his tight muscles to slacken.  He’s still stiff when Steve embraces him.  Kisses his cheek.  Whispers sweet nothings in his ear.

“Sorry,” James breathes.  He relaxes enough to drop his chin onto Steve’s shoulder.

“It was a rough start,” Steve murmurs back.  “But it can still be a good day.”


End file.
